


We'll Be Alright, Somehow

by aintweproudriff



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Running Away, coming out that goes poorly, probably ooc let's be real, theyre so sweet with each other god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintweproudriff/pseuds/aintweproudriff
Summary: Race is outed to his parents, and it doesn't go well. At least his boyfriends love him a lot.Prompt fill: a hurt comfort situation / when one of them comes out to their parents as gay and poly.





	We'll Be Alright, Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this prompt, and so I tried my darndest to get this right. I'm not great at angst, or solving problems with parents, but I like how this turned out. 
> 
> (Also I think this is exactly 1000 words and I've never been happier)

Race’s feet hit the pavement hard. He could only hope that the force going into every step would carry him faster; farther away from where he had been, and closer to where he wanted to be. 

He used to ride his bike down this way when he was little. Then he started driving, and would take his car this way. Part of him wished he had his bike or his ca now, but he wondered if he’d be able to drive or ride while his eyes overflowed with tears. If he hadn’t known these streets as well as he did, he wouldn’t be able to even run while he was like this. But his legs carried him, unthinkingly, up and down hills, underneath burned-out streetlights and a darkening sky. 

Out of breath, salt from tears and sweat in his eyes and mouth, he raised his hand to knock on the door of the house his feet had taken him to. He knocked twice softly, and then twice hard: a secret code from a long time ago.   
Thankfully, the message was received, and he only had to wait seconds before the door opened, and he felt his hand be taken. 

“Race, oh my god,” Albert whispered, pulling him into his house and and then into his arms. “What happened, what’s wrong?”

Race shook his head. He knew he would get Albert’s shirt wet, and he couldn’t deal with guilt right now. 

“Okay, okay. That’s okay. Let’s go upstairs, to my room. Okay?”

Race nodded, and Albert began to lead Race up the stairs, very gently, taking care that neither of them tripped. 

Albert guided Race to his bed, and Race flopped down, resting his head in his hands. Albert knelt down in front of Race. 

“Is it okay if I ask Spot to come over?” Race looked his boyfriend in the eye. “Do you want Spot here, Race?”  
He closed his eyes and nodded. 

“Okay. I’m going to call him, is it okay if I go out of the room for a while? It’ll only take a minute,” Albert draped a blue blanket over Race’s shoulders. 

Race nodded again, grabbing onto the edges of the blanket. His tears had slowed, but his breathing hadn’t yet steadied. 

Albert dialed the number as fast as he could, biting his lip as he walked out of the room. 

The phone clicked.

“Albert, hi.”

“Spot, come over.”

“Y’know, it’s Race who booty-calls me, usually. Not that I’m complainin-”

“Sean Conlon. Get over here.”

“...what’s wrong?”

“Race is here,” Albert lowered his voice, “he’s sitting on my bed in tears, and he won’t say what’s wrong. I think we need you here.”

The other line went silent. If it hadn’t kept buzzing, Albert would have thought that Spot had hung up.

“I’m on my way.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When he went back into his room, Albert found Race laying on his bed, the blanket over him, and the tears streaming down his face again. Albert laid down next to him, and put his arm around his waist. Race had other ideas, though, and turned towards Albert to bury his face in his chest. 

For the next few minutes, Albert pressed kisses to the top of Race’s head, while Race continued to quietly cry. Every so often, he would take a deep, shaky breath, and then do his best to stifle the ensuing sob.   
Albert tried so hard to stay calm; he kept his breaths steady, his kisses regular, and the circles he rubbed into Race’s back slow. But he’d never seen Race like this. He’d never gotten his sad, this scared, this helpless before. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t relieved to hear the doorbell ring. He couldn’t help Race on his own, and Spot would help. 

He kissed Race’s head once more, and then rolled out of bed and ran to the front door. 

Spot took half a second to step in and kiss Albert once the door opened, before pointing upstairs and raising his eyebrows. He wasted no time once Albert nodded, taking the stairs two at a time. As soon as he saw Race, he made a beeline for his boyfriend, wrapping him in his arms and kissing his forehead. 

“Race. What happened?” he held Race’s cheeks. “Who did this?”

Race’s head rolled forward, so that he was looking at his knees. When he spoke for the first time since arriving, it was very softly. 

“I-” he took a deep breath. Spot and Albert watched a tear land on his jeans. “They found out.”

“Who found out, Tony?” Spot pressed his forehead to Race’s. 

From there, Race’s words were like a waterfall. 

“My parents. About me. About- about us. They took my phone, and- and they went through it and read all our texts and all my Instagram and my social media and now they’re angry and they hate me and I can’t go back and my dad wouldn’t stop yelling and I’m pretty sure my mom is still crying and my sister’s still hiding in her room and-”

The tears returned on Race’s face as he sobbed his sentences. Albert had turned his face away so that no one could see him crying and wiping tears away from his face. 

Spot took a deep breath and climbed up on the bed with Race and Albert. No one said anything for a very long time. The only sounds were those of their thoughts, Race’s sniffling, and Spot’s knuckles cracking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Race shook his head. 

Spot reached for him, and pulled Race’s head close to his chest. 

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll be okay,” Albert said, laying down and resting his head on Race’s lap. 

“Yeah,” Race set his fingers on Albert’s arm. “We’ll be okay.”

“We’re going to be okay,” Spot echoed. 

The “somehow” remained unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment or a kudo if you did, and please come send me prompts on tumblr @javidblue or talk to me @spot-and-all-his-cronies


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